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I stepped back from the curb as the black cab pulled away, barely noticing the hand at my elbow gently guiding me.
“We are a little early.” Frank said, leading me towards a short flight of rounded steps. I nodded once, watching my shoes climb each step with the same cold detachment I had felt all week. “Good job I brought the papers with me,” he added, patting the neatly folded newspaper under his arm. “It’ll give me something to read while we wait.”
“Okay.” I mumbled as my stomach clenched. I felt unsettled and I didn’t know why. I stole a glance up at Frank, noticing the tightness around his mouth and eyes.
He didn’t look happy.
And shouldn’t a man look happy on his wedding day?
“Here we are, darling.”
I looked away, seeing for the first time the glass door of the Registry Office. My step faltered and Frank’s grip tightened, pulling me closer to him. “Do watch yourself, Claire.”
I paused as he opened the door for me, trying not to flinch as his hand slipped from my elbow to press into the small of my back, propelling me forward. I wasn’t about to run; I had promised him such three days ago, standing at his front door, the rain washing away all traces of my tears as I finally relented.
Frank had then handled the arrangements with a ruthless precision. I had thrown myself into my work. It had seemed easier that way.
Stepping inside the reception, we were greeted by Mrs Graham, a small woman with white hair and a keen gleam in her eye. She bustled us into the waiting room with the promise of a cup of tea and to let us know as soon the Registrars were ready for us. With a brisk nod of thanks, Frank eased himself into one of the chairs before disappearing behind his newspaper. I was left to stare about the painted white walls, absently noting the faded prints of flowers that had been haphazardly hung.
The only sounds were the distant hum of the traffic, the persistent ticking of the clock above my head, and my floundering heart.
Not to sound too melodramatic about your current situation, Beauchamp.
I felt my phone vibrate and I pulled it out of my coat pocket, seeing that it was a message from Geillis.
Stuck in traffic, hen. What time are you getting there?
I smiled faintly.
Already here.
A moment later she replied:
Really? Isn’t the bride supposed to be the one that is fashionably late?
My smile widened, feeling more genuine for the first time in three days. After her initial shock at my announcement, Geillis had thrown herself into her duties as Maid-of-Honour. During our lunch break yesterday afternoon, we had found the dress and flowers while that evening, we had ended up in the pub across from the hospital for an impromptu hen-party. I owed Geillis for not asking too many questions, even though I could tell it was burning her up inside.
In my hand, my phone vibrated twice. The message from Geillis was the first one I read:
There is still time to do a runner, ye ken. Take the 2pm Eurostar and be in Paris in time for a late lunch? I could let him know. I still have his number…
“Who are you talking to, darling?”
I jumped, guilt causing my cheeks to redden. I didn’t owe Frank any explanation but the way he was staring at me, his dark eyes gleaming, immediately put me on edge.
“Only Geillis,” I explained, showing him the phone screen but careful to not let him see her last message. “She is bringing Reg but is stuck in traffic.”
He hmphed in reply and went back to reading his newspaper. I stared at him for a moment, coming to terms with the fact that this would be how things were from here on out. I wasn't too sure I liked it...
I remembered the second message and, thinking that it was probably Joe letting me know the status of one of my patients, I reopened the app and blinked.
Because the message wasn’t from Joe.
It was from Jamie.
And just like that, all the air pushed out of my lungs. I gasped, finding it hard to draw breath as the phone trembled in my hand. How was it that I only had to see his name to feel as though I could shatter into pieces? In the three days since I had last seen him, when the hurt pride was still twisting my insides into ribbons, everything had changed.
I could just ignore him, of course. Switch off the phone and put it back in my pocket.
Out of sight. Out of mind.
Why should it matter to me what he had to say? Why should I allow him a single second of my time when I should be solely focused on my wedding day? Why should I be thinking about a red-haired Scottish Viking who had managed to turn my world on its head in the space of two short months?
My stomach was really beginning to churn.
“Oh, my goodness, are you feeling alright?”
Pulled from my inner turmoil, I looked up into the kind face of Mrs Graham. She was watching me with a discerning eye, a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands.
“I’m fine!” I replied. My voice sounded small. Thin. Distant.
“You really don’t look well,” Mrs Graham insisted, putting the tray down on the small table beside Frank, who didn’t even look up. She cast him an odd look before she ushered me towards a side room near to the toilets, ignoring my weak protests. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to freshen up before the service?”
The room was sparsely decorated; there was a comfy enough looking chair in the corner, a side-table, and a tall mirror attached to the wall. As Mrs Graham closed the door behind me, I caught a glance of my reflection and grimaced; I did not look like a woman excited about her impending nuptials to the man she supposedly loved. My normally pale skin was practically translucent, coated in a light sheen of sweat that cast me in a sickly glow. My cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were blown wide. On closer inspection, I was horrified to find them glistening with unshed tears.
Damn you, James Fraser!
I slumped down onto the chair. There was no way I could get through today without knowing. I unlocked the screen and pressed down on the message as calmly as I could.
Sassenach.
Sassenach? I stared at the message, ridiculously expecting more words to suddenly materialise. Was that it? I sent back an equally elusive response:
Jamie.
Do you have a wee moment to talk?
Jesus H Roosevelt Christ! I swallowed hard and tried to come up with an answer. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him where I was nor the reason why.
Not really.
I’ll be brief. You were right and I am so sorry.
Sorry for what?
His reply was immediate:
For what happened. I spoke to Laoghaire.
Did you now…
Aye. I told her to stop or I’d get a restraining order.
I raised an eyebrow.
How did she take it?
With her usual composure; she threw her drink at me, screamed, and walked out of the meeting.
Such drama.
There was a silence between us for a while. And then another message came through.
Forgive me, Sassenach. Forgive me and meet me for a coffee. Anywhere ye like.
That seemed to finish me off completely. The unshed tears finally started to fall.
I can’t.
Please? I was sore and said more than I meant. Please, Claire…
I shook my head. It was starting to all be too much. I couldn’t clear my head, couldn’t catch a breath deep enough. Seeing him wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t calm the storm inside of me.
So, I closed my eyes and typed.
You don’t understand, Jamie.
What? What don’t I understand?
It was now or never. Opening the camera, I took a picture of my reflection in the mirror. It was all there; the glimpse of the simple white dress beneath my coat, the riotous curls tamed and momentarily behaving, the small bouquet of pale-yellow roses hanging limply at my side.
I pressed Send and it was done.
Now he knew. We could both move on.
Whatever this encounter had been between us, whatever feelings that might have begun to consume us, would be best put to rest before either of our hearts were truly touched.
And if you believe that, Beauchamp, then you will believe anything.
There was a knock on the door at the exact same moment by phone started to ring. I glanced down and saw Jamie’s name on the call screen. The yearning to answer his call, to hear his voice again, was almost overriding every sensible notion firing off in my head. My thumb hovered above the screen, wanting to accept…
“Darling?” Frank called out from the other side of the door. “What is taking you so long?”
“I’ll be right out,” I called back, pressing my thumb down on Decline. There didn’t seem to be any point in delaying the inevitable any longer. “Just give me another minute.”
I put my phone down on the table and took a deep, shuddering breath. As I was wiping the tears away, my phone began to frantically vibrate. Message after message seemed to be coming through, causing the phone to judder its way towards the edge. I managed to grab hold of it before it tumbled to the floor and was shocked to see how many messages there were, all from Jamie.
No!
Don’t do this, Sassenach.
Claire, please don’t.
Look, just give me a chance to get to ye.
Claire…
Please, let me explain before ye do anything.
Do you think he loves you?
Mo nighean donn…please
No. This wouldn’t do at all. I needed to end this and end it cleanly. I blinked away fresh tears as I typed one final message to him.
I wish you all the best, Jamie.
Switching off the phone, I took a deep breath and opened the door back to Frank.
~~~~~~
An hour later, Frank and I stood before the Superintendent Registrar. He was a sallow middle-aged man who clearly didn’t wish to perform any wedding in general, let alone ours.
“This place in which we are now met has been duly sanctioned, according to law, for the celebration of marriages. You are here today to witness the joining…”
I heard the words and tried to relax. This was what I wanted, a life and future with Frank. We had had our ups and downs, just like every other couple. But if we could just get through the next twenty minutes and say the words, everything would be okay. I just knew it!
But that strange unsettled feeling had returned once again.
Geillis and Reg Wakefield had arrived with minutes to spare, profusely apologising and seeming to be a little flushed. She had nodded a greeting at Frank before embracing me in a tight hug, whispering again that it wasn’t too late. When I pulled back to argue, those knowing green eyes of hers bored into mine. “He asked after ye,” she whispered urgently. “I told him what I knew, and I need to tell ye something from him…” But then Frank had appeared at my side, glaring down at Geillis with the same derision as he always had, and all but dragged me away.
“If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, he or she should declare it now.”
I held my breath, feeling Frank grow tense.
The seconds ticked by with very heartbeat seeming to take an eternity.
“Aye, I do.” Geillis said quietly behind me.
I closed my eyes. No! Not now.
“What the hell do you think you are playing at?” Frank snarled, rounding on Geillis. She stood her ground as he attempted to loom above her, ignoring him completely as she offered me her phone.
“He sent me a message. Ye really should read it, hen.”
I shook my head. Denying him and myself.
Her green eyes softened in sympathy. “Then I’ll just have to read it out for yer. Ye deserve to hear what he has to say, ye ken.”
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, to stop her. But I found that I couldn’t. Because I wanted to know.
“Geillis, I need to ask ye a favour. Stop it. Stop her. Hold it off. Delay it until I can get there. She shouldn’t be marrying him. It should be me and I think she knows that. She is just scared, Geillis. And she need not be scared as long as I’m with her…”
I glanced over at Frank, whose eyebrows are rapidly disappearing into his hairline.
“There isn’t time to tell ye everything. I said things to her that I shouldna have and I regret every word. I didnae expect ye to understand just yet but do whatever ye can. I know this all sounds desperate but please, Geillis. Please. Because I cannae live without half my heart.”
My throat tightened as I tried desperately to maintain my composure.
“Who the fuck is Jamie?”
I couldn’t answer Frank. Every one of Jamie’s words was swirling about my head, building into a crescendo that threatened to pull me apart at the seams. Did he just say he loved me?
“Who is he, Claire?”
“He’s just…someone I treated. We spent some time…” my voice trailed off helplessly. I couldn’t begin to describe who Jamie was. But I knew that I wanted him. I needed him. I loved him.
“Did you fuck him?”
I turned my head sharply, glaring up into Frank’s red face. “No, Frank. I wouldn’t do you the discourtesy.”
“I find that hard to believe, Claire.”
The thin thread that held me to Frank finally snapped. “You can believe what you like, Frank. I never wanted to hurt you. I thought that I could let him go, that I could live a life with you. But I know now that I can’t. This is for the best, Frank.” I swallowed and pulled the engagement ring off my finger. I reached for one of his hands and pressed the ring into his palm “You deserve to be happy on your wedding day. Go find someone who can give you everything that you need.”
Geillis tugged at my sleeve, drawing my attention back to her. She was beaming with pride. “He is waiting for ye, hen.”
Jamie is here!
I was outside in a matter of seconds and there he was.
Jamie was standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing jeans and a chequered shirt. His cinnamon curls were ruffled, as though he had run his hands through them numerous times, and he was drumming the fingers of his right hand against his thigh. His blue eyes watched me slowly descend the stone slabs until we were merely a foot apart.
“Hello.” I whispered, coming to a stop and unable to say anything more.
“Tis a pretty dress yer wearing, Sassenach.” He said, his expression closed off from me.
“What? This old thing.” I joked, involuntarily staring down at the dress.
“Did ye go through with it then?”
I held up my left hand. “Seems I got a better offer,” I shrugged, failing to stop the corners of my mouth from twitching up into a smile.
“Yer a little over-dressed for a coffee, ye ken.”
“Oh, I ken. But I think it adds a nice touch, don’t you?”
His façade melted away and Jamie closed the distance between us, bringing his forehead down to gently rest against my own.
“Do ye forgive me, mo ghràdh?”
“Forgiven.” I vowed, running my nose along his.
“Sassenach.” Jamie sighed, pulling me into him. “I want…I would like very much to kiss ye. May I?”
Tears filled my eyes as I nodded my head. We would go from here and we would talk. He would tell me what he needed to say, ask for my forgiveness again. And I would give it to him freely every time. And then, together, we would move forwards. We would take a chance on each other.
“Do not be afraid,” he whispered against my mouth, raising his hands to cup my face.
I touched his jaw, drawing my fingers back to the nape of his neck. “There’s the two of us now.”